Thrill
by Gemmaaaaa
Summary: This time, he is sure Bail sees him shudder. He'd have to be blind not to. Swallowing thickly, Anakin tries to pull at least some part of his mind free from the fog of lust clouding it, the task is so much more difficult than he anticipated. All he can think of is Padme, her hand and her glorious, sinful mouth.


Despite his distaste or more accurately, his disinterest for politics, Anakin Skywalker loves visiting his wife while she works. Not that there's very much for him to do around the Senate, especially when they're alone together in her office. Mostly, he lounges around on the plush chairs and distracts her from her work. From time to time, she grows irritated if there's something important her attention _should_ be on, but much like him, she never takes their time together for granted. Even if he does use the Force to levitate her seat when he grows a little too bored.

 _Although he has since been forced to swear on his life never to repeat that incident ever again._

It's when he watches her work; he truly sees why he could never be a senator… The repetitive grind of meetings and long debates about things of little true importance, and very little progress made in the more important aspects of governing. From time to time, he wonders how in the name of the Force his wife remains calm in those meetings. Sometimes, watching live debates broadcasted over the HoloNews from wherever he is deployed are enough to make him _rage_ when she is insulted or put down by fellow senators. Force help them if he is ever in attendance when it happens. However at the same time, he is never prouder of her than during one of her speeches, or when she convinces the other senators to see things her way. She's brilliant.

The HoloNews paints his wife as a dull, conservative woman whose lack of social life and romantic attachments are to be pitied. They make her out to be an innocent spinster, unskilled in the ways of sensuality and men. If what they say is to be believed, then Anakin wonders why the senator in question is kneeling beneath her desk with her lips stretched around his cock.

His head is thrown back, fingers clenching around the armrests of her chair, knuckles quickly becoming white beneath the pressure as she works him expertly. It's hard, keeping his groans and grunts to a minimum because his wife's mouth is nothing less than a paradise here to torment him down to his very soul. Despite how she loathes the HoloNews reports on her, Anakin likes them… It's amusing to see something claiming to be fact be so far from the truth, that the whole thing is pure fiction. And it only proved further, that _he_ is the only person in this galaxy who _truly_ knows Padme Amidala Naberrie Skywalker. Let other's think what they will, so long as he knows the truth. And he knows _exactly_ who his wife is… And he's glad of the secret knowledge.

Anakin glances down at the Angel beneath the desk and the sight of him disappearing down her throat almost makes him spill himself too soon.

She is a vision; truly she is the most glorious thing his eyes have ever seen. Those warm brown eyes of hers sparkle with the knowledge what she's doing to him, of what she's capable of reducing him to and Anakin momentarily loses control of himself and hisses her name, eyes slamming shut tightly. Gently, her fingers come to dance across his thighs, rubbing up and down soothingly, and even such a sweet little touch only adds to the pleasure he's receiving. Padme knows _exactly_ what she's doing…

It's just as he opens his mouth, to moan her name or let loose the groans he's been fighting back, he isn't sure which, when the door to her office opens, and in walks Bail Organa. "Senator Amidala, I must-" Anakin's eyes snap up to meet the man's confused gaze at the sight of him in Padme's chair, and tenses. This is bad… Very, very bad… But the bigger, more reckless part of him is _thrilled_ at the prospect of this. It's risky, very risky, and if they're caught, well, he doesn't want to think about that.

"General Skywalker," The senator clears his throat, trying to regain himself before speaking again. "I didn't expect to see you here…" Organa steps closer, yet thankfully, keeps enough distance between them that he can't see Anakin's trousers are around his ankles and very senator he's looking for is on her knees, looking up at the Jedi with wide, panicked eyes.

"Senator." Anakin nods respectfully, not risking further movement right now. He's positioned _just_ right so nothing can be seen, and that's not about to change. "Forgive me, I'd rise to greet you, but my leg is injured. Apparently it _is_ possible to be snuck up on by a battle droid. A lesson learned, I suppose." The excuse is believable enough, it wasn't often he _wasn't_ sporting some injury or another while in Coruscant these days. Besides, Anakin would like to meet the man who would call a Jedi out on such a statement. At once, Bail nods and relaxes, seeming to understand and holds his hands respectfully behind his back as Anakin speaks once more. "Senator Amidala asked me to stay here while she returned home to fetch some documentation she'd forgotten in her haste to get here this morning."

This wasn't _far_ from the truth, the entire reason he is here is because she _had_ forgotten certain documents at home this morning. What transpired after his arrival was entirely her fault. As if willing him to speed this up, Padme's sharp nails bite into his skin suddenly, tearing a hiss from Anakin before he can stop it. At once, Bail looks concerned, and opens his mouth, but he is faster, raising a hand to silence the man.

"I'm alright… It's nothing a little meditation won't fix after the senator returns."

Feeling risky, he glances down toward his wife, narrowing his eyes in warning and she swallows around him, making his jaw clench. This woman is going to drive him mad before the morning is done, he swears it. While Bail settles himself into one of the chairs opposite him, Anakin manipulates the Force into making the HoloPad on the desk fall to the ground with a clatter, and takes the opportunity to lean down, and hiss quietly, " _don't stop_." For all that she is able to command him and bend him to her will whenever she pleases, when it comes to their intimacies _he_ is the dominant one, and as fiery and strong as his wife may be, she knows when to obey.

It's all part of their game, and he _knows_ she enjoys it every bit as much he does.

Bail begins inquiring about the war effort and the search for Count Dooku and Anakin answers his questions as best he can while Padme's mouth moves over his aching shaft. If the senator suspects anything untoward is happening, he says nothing. Really, he's barely listening to a word Bail is saying, how he possibly could pay attention to talk of politics when Padme is pressing a gentle kiss his tip while her small hand pumps him is beyond his understanding. He wishes he could look down and see her, burn the sight of her pleasuring him into his mind for all eternity but while Bail is here, he has to play it safe.

Still, the knowledge that Padme is sucking his length while her co-worker sits before them, completely oblivious is thrilling beyond belief.

He nods along as Bail drones on about a vote about the purchase of more clones, and Anakin _knows_ this is something he should listen to, but Padme frees him from her mouth and instead runs her hand along his slick shaft, so any possibility of holding an actual conversation with the senator is gone. He knows _exactly_ what she's doing, and she's doing a _wonderful_ job of it. Despite the risk, Anakin dares to look down at his wife once more, and immediately regrets it as those lips of hers curve into the most arousing smirk as she blows cold air across his tip _. Gods have mercy on him_ …

This time, he is sure Bail sees him shudder. He'd have to be blind not to. Swallowing thickly, Anakin tries to pull at least some part of his mind free from the fog of lust clouding it, the task is so much more difficult than he anticipated. All he can think of is Padme, her hand and her _glorious, sinful_ mouth. "Sorry senator, the pain makes it difficult to think clearly at times." The excuse is weak at best, but thankfully Organa seems to accept it thank the Force. Padme times things perfectly, or perhaps _cruelly_ is the correct way to describe it, as it is when he begins to speak; her mouth descends on him again.

"I believe that – _mhm…_ " Pausing to clear his throat, Anakin wets his lips with his tongue and steels himself against the pleasure she gives him enough to form at least one coherent sentence. " _I believe_ , the clones are invaluable to the war. Most believe they're easily replicable, but they aren't out there fighting the battles alongside them. Believe me, I hope for peace as much as anyone senator, but I also believe we shouldn't leave ourselves with depleted numbers." At this, he feels Padme pause, release him and sit back on heels, and he can sense her anger at what he's just said. They haven't discussed this vote, not really… He knows she believes not purchasing new clones is the correct way toward finding a peaceful end to the war, and he respects her opinion. However, he disagrees. "Of course, there are the financial aspects to think of, but that is why I am a Jedi, and not a senator", he adds to appease his beloved, and hopes it enough to soothe the impending argument his comment has likely created.

Bail laughs good naturedly at his comment and nods, pursing his lips and frowning somewhat, Anakin would wonder what was going through his mind if Padme wasn't pressing fleeting, all too gentle kisses to the underside of his cock and he positively _melts_.

His wife, despite what the HoloNews said, is _far_ from a saint when it comes to these things and being the only one to know this sets off a fierce masculine pride within Anakin, one he struggles desperately to keep hidden most days. And this is _far_ from the first time she has performed this act on him. And while in the beginning, he'd usually spill himself down her throat _embarrassingly_ quickly, he's had a few years to build something of a tolerance to her wicked ways. But she's quickly reducing him to that trembling boy who'd yet to master his prowess in these things all over again. _He is so close_ and he doesn't need Organa in the room to see him reach that bliss. And while the man's presence in the office has been fun, Anakin is more than ready to see him leave now.

Thankfully, the man in question stands suddenly, bushing his clothing down quickly as he speaks, "thank you General Skywalker… You've given me much to think on before this vote. When Senator Amidala returns give her a message for me, tell her the Chancellor is moving the vote a day forward, so I would like to meet earlier to discuss things through."

"Don't worry senator; I'll make sure she gets it alright." He feels Padme choke around him in response to his double entendre and it takes everything in his power not to smirk as Bail nods and turns on his heel toward the door, finally freeing them of his presence. Anakin likes the man, but right now, he likes him a whole lot more when he is not in the room. The moment Organa is gone; he is filled with relief as he has never known it before, and immediately his flesh hand finds its way into his wife's hair, gripping her tightly and it'll be a complete mess by the time they're done here but he doesn't care. Padme sucks him harder, bringing one hand to play with his base as she works him with her tongue and he is lost to her… He hopes Bail is not outside of the office lest he hears the deep, _loud,_ agonised groan that falls through Anakin's lips, and he's utterly helpless to control it. His release hits _hard_ and he can do nothing but desperately attempt to keep his hips still and on the chair, chanting her name as he floods her mouth.

When it's over, he slumps back into the seat lazily, breathless and she gently releases him, presses a kiss to the side of his knee before crawling out from beneath the desk and stands, watching him with a smirk more smug than anything he's ever conjured and as she tugs her lip between her teeth, Anakin feels himself hardening all over again already. Forget the Jedi, forget the Sith, the Force and anything else, it is his wife who is all powerful, nothing else.

With shaky legs, he stands, cupping her neck with his gloved hand and grins at her… This woman, who holds his heart in the palm of her little hand, is indescribable. No words exist in any language that can do her justice. Nor will they do justice to his love for her… It is too vast, too passionate. It simply _was._ The sweet moment is shattered quickly enough, when he leans down, licking his way into her mouth, plundering the warmth he finds there before pulling back nipping gently at her lip. When he breaks the kiss, they're both breathless, and the heat is simmering between them once more, a heat that despite two and a half years of marriage has not faded, even a little. Anakin swears it never will… And right now he needs her every bit as desperately as he always does, needs to please her until she screams, to hear her chanting his name now as she's overwhelmed by the pleasure he gives her.

" _Get on the desk_."

 _ **A/N:**_ This little piece is total procrastination of something else I'm writing. I got the idea, and just _had_ to follow it… Please review and let me know what you think!


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